.Memory.

During the last few weeks in my second year, I began to explore buildings around Dublin city. Although my imagery had made a move from personal belongings, my ideas and reasons for making the work were very similar.

The objects I had used in some of my previous work were nostalgic, personal items. Things that I had had forever, or things that my family and I had grown up with. They are like the physical manifestation of memories. They are mainly pretty mundane things, but they are things that I love in such a way that, frequently, my familiarity causes me to disregard them. Each object seems to hold a vague, non-specific memory of my entire childhood - so weighty in comparison to a seemingly throw-away object.

These items made me think about memory - how memory can be left behind, or neglected, or abandoned. It made my wonder what happened to these things after their owners have left them - does the weight of their meaning disappear when they have been abandoned?

I suppose I was looking at these buildings as objects, and as places where memories have been deserted by their owners and are left to fade over time.

There are so many of these buildings around the city now and they have multiplied in number during the recession. Sad looking buildings. Buildings that are falling into a state of disrepair. Abandoned, neglected, derelict buildings where things once happened. It makes me wonder about the mystery of the memories that have lived in their rooms.

These are copper etchings with aquatint. The buildings do not stand next to each other in reality. They are buildings dotted around the city, that I, and many other Dubliners are familiar with, gathered together like a mix-match of trinkets.

...

.Little Boy Blue.

I mentioned in a previous post that I like to make books. I began making them about a year and a half ago and have made over a dozen since then. There are some really nice ways to bind them, and I always think that they look very personal.

Here's one of the first books that I made. It's bound using the 'concertina' method; this means that it can open out like a concertina when both the ribbons are untied. In these photos, only one ribbon has been untied, so it opens like a regular book. If both ribbons are untied, the pages can be stretched out, one after the other, making a sort of banner with a cover on each end.

The poem in the book is 'Little Boy Blue' by Eugene Field. It's a very sad poem. We have a lovely book at home called 'Favourite Poems We Learned at School', http://www.bookfinder.com/dir/i/Illustrated_Favourite_Poems_We_Learned_at_School/1856352412/ it's an book of poetry with poems in both Irish and English accompanied by beautiful old sepia-toned or black and white photos, mainly nostalgic-looking family photos of children playing or primary school class photos and things like that. The photos work really well in the book, giving it a great atmosphere. I didn't learn ALL of the poems at school, and my mother would've learned a lot more of them than I did.

Anyway, this poem, 'Little Boy Blue', is in it. It's sort of 'my mother's poem'. While at school I chose this poem for my drama exam. We had to recite it and then the examiner would ask us questions about it. The problem was - the examiner misinterpreted it. She thought that the Little Boy Blue written about in the poem was, in fact, a soldier who died at war. Well, she was wrong, which was unfortunate for me, as she thought that I was the one who had misinterpreted it. Oh well.
Often a poem is a metaphore for some other meaning - sometimes it's not. Sometimes a poem says exactly what it means - no metaphores, no similes, no enigmas or obscurities that require entire books to be written in an attempt to decipher their meaning. Some poems don't try to catch you out. This is one of them.

The images are little copper etchings that I have sewn onto - an old-fashioned, metal army-man figure, a battered, sad, old Christmas tree decoration that we have had forever, and also a Claddagh ring, given to me by my grandparents when I turned eighteen.

.Chinese Pin Cushion.

I drew this pin cushion during my second year at NCAD. We've had the pin cushion for as long as I remember, and I've always loved it and all its little China men.

If you click on the image, it will enlarge. I drew it in a lot of detail, including the littlest features, such as the tiny hairs that protrude from each worn out thread in the ponytails of the men.

One of my tutors saw it and commented that it had been drawn 'very lovingly'. I wanted to remember it just as it is, but with the sense of nostalgia that accompanies a black-and-white image.

These are some pieces that I made during my second year at NCAD. I had just begun to specialise in Printmaking. For some reason, I have very few photos of my work from my first year. I might try to dig them up soon and take some photos to share.

In second year in NCAD, we did a book-binding workshop which I really enjoyed. I still use the skills I learned from the workshop a huge amount. This image comes from the book-binding project that we were subsequently assigned.

Copper Etching and Aquatint. This is not my favourite piece. It may even be my least favourite.

This is my first Copper Etching and aquatint with a hard ground. I made if for my friend, Christina. The image comes from a funny story from when we were about fifteen.

This was my first ever Copper Etching and Aquatint. It was a soft ground. It's a picture of my brother, Fergus and me. We spent a lot of time sitting there when we were younger, watching our brother's primary school rugby matches on Saturday mornings in St. Mary's College in Rathmines. Afterwards we would often go to the Kylemore with the Bergins for breakfast.

.Some Years Ago.

These are a few of the pieces that I made for my portfolio when I was applying to NCAD in 2008. I think that my work has changed a lot since then. Another thing, and maybe the most important thing that has changed for me, is the idea of work itself - now, I think it’s important to know why I’m creating a piece. I’m not sure that I knew why back then… Still, I appreciate that these pieces got me to where I wanted to go.

Semi-blind Drawing in Pen and ink, watercolour and sewing.

Pencil Drawing

Pencil Drawing.

Pencil Drawing.

Pencil Drawing.

I’m not much of a painter. I specialise in Printmaking, actually; studying in the National College of Art and Design (NCAD), in Dublin. On the rare occasion that I do decide to paint, I pick up a paintbrush, dip it into the paint and feel as if I have never in my life painted before. I am completely lost, I don’t know how and where to start - I feel that I have to learn all over again from scratch. Not at all like riding a bike. I am out of practice.

It’s funny that my first ever post should be one of my paintings, I did it about three years ago now, and it’s one of three or so self portraits that I have done. But here I am. In paint. Or at least, part of me.